


Legacy

by hopeyoustay



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ben Solo Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Ben Solo Has Issues, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Good Parent Han Solo, M/M, Protective Armitage Hux, Rey Kenobi, Rey is Not a Palpatine, Slow Burn, Smuggler Ben Solo, Spy Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeyoustay/pseuds/hopeyoustay
Summary: The day Ben Solo fled the Jedi Academy, he swore to himself he wouldn't follow anyone's legacy. Instead, he would create his own, away from expectations and everyone who claimed to know what was best for him.Of course, looking back, he does entirely recognize the irony of becoming a smuggler while claiming this. He also recognizes the questionable judgment that was involved in deciding to rescue an ex-First Order double agent on some backwater planet in the Outer Rim. Really, he'd never claimed to have a plan. He was just letting things happen at this point.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Rey, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Ben Solo & Han Solo, Finn & Armitage Hux, Leia Organa & Ben Solo, Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey & Ben Solo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 99





	1. I

**CHAPTER I - THE BEGINNING**

When Ben was born, Han Solo cried. Leia had placed their son in his arms and, with Luke beside him seemingly captivated by the babe, he shed a few tears that gently fell onto the blanket the infant was swaddled in. Leia had smiled at him, tired from childbirth but still radiant and beaming, and Han had smiled back. As Luke told Leia to get some rest, Ben's eyes slowly flickered open for the first time. So far the boy was Leia's exact copy; curly brown hair thick on his head and brown eyes so dark they were nearly black. He blinked up at Han and, on instinct, he pulled his son closer to his chest. 

"Hi, Ben." He smiled gently, waving a finger around the infant's face.

Ben did not smile or laugh, instead his eyes closed and he fell into a quiet sleep.

"He's not fussy, at least." Luke spoke quietly.

"Here I was concerned about my beauty sleep." Han snarked in response without even looking at his best friend, still entranced by the bundle in his arms.

"Well, maybe you needn't have worried at all." The Jedi chucked.

~

They had been right to worry, though. In the first three months of his life, Ben hardly made a sound.

Han would care for him in the mornings and afternoons, while Leia practically helped run the entire New Republic. Not only had she brought the Senate back from the ruins the Empire had left it in, but she also served as Queen of New Alderaan and the people had overwhelmingly elected her Senator as well. He'd been startled initially; for all he called her princess, he never really made the connection that he was marrying a future queen. She had reassured him in that patient but exasperated way of hers, telling him he held no title and had no responsibilities other than that of a normal husband.

Ben, though, he was their little prince. The entire Alderaanian Council had been thrilled at his birth; Prince Ben Organa, the son of the Queen Leia Organa, grandson of Queen Breha Organa. Destined for great things, they whispered, when Han would carry him through the halls to spend time with Leia when the Senate broke for lunch. Han still stubbornly insisted his last name was Solo despite Alderaanian customs, and Leia was content to indulge him.

Everything was like a dream. That picture-perfect family; the mother, the father, the son, the weird uncle that visited twice a month with shiny swords and neat Jedi tricks. Then, in the dead of night, they'd been woken by an awful wailing. They heard it through the monitor in his room, but also from across the hall by the sheer sound of it. Leia had sprung out of bed, not even gathering her wits as she grabbed her lightsaber from the drawer. Han had snagged a blaster out of the belt of his pants and rushed to catch his wife, bursting into the nursery only to find no one but Ben, wailing his lungs out.

Leia had sat her saber down, the blue blade never having made an appearance, and Han kept a loose hold on his blaster as they approached the crib. Leia had bent down to pick up her son when she gasped slightly, flinching back for a moment.

"So dark." She whispered, looking at the baby with wide eyes.

"What is?" Han asked, glancing around the room in confusion.

"His...his force signature." Leia said, "I've never felt one so strong or potent before. Not since..."

Vader. Her birth father. Han's mouth dropped open for a moment, torn between worry and anger. Not furious anger, more of a stunned and horrified kind. The idea that his wife would even think of comparing a baby, not just their son but any baby, to Vader, well, it baffled him to no end. He was worried too, of course, because he trusted his wife and her judgment. He had no force sensitivity, though, and all he saw at that moment was his crying son. He took a step forward to stand beside Leia and sat his blaster on the nightstand beside the crib. He reached for Ben, their son quieting as soon as Han held him in his arms. 

"Han...I didn't mean..." Leia started, guilt not hidden in her eyes.

"He's three months old." Han whispered harshly, "Don't put that force bullshit on him yet. I know we can't exactly avoid it but...not yet."

She nodded, turning and walking out of the nursery. They didn't discuss the incident any further the next day. A week after, though, the silence was broken. Leia had just put Ben down for the night and Han had finished reading him a bedtime story when he walked past the kitchen and overheard her talking to Luke about all that had transpired. His heart clenched and he felt his feet make their way back to their son's room where he sat, watching the baby's peaceful face until he heard Leia retreat to their bedroom.

~

Ben Solo was very much a mama's boy, but he loved his father with his whole heart as well. As he grew, Leia would take him to the Senate with her, the small boy of five draped in the sapphire blue robes of the Royal House of Organa. Ben loved those days; he'd smile and wave at all the people around who would coo and ask him for his name. Leia would hold him on her lap as she argued with any opposition in sight, Ben looking up at his mother in awe. Then, some days, Han would have a _totally legal_ run to make, stealing Ben away for a day or two and worrying Leia sick even though she agreed to it. Chewie would give the boy piggyback rides, and Han began showing him how to shoot a blaster.

"But Uncle Luke has a laser sword." The boy would whine.

"Lightsaber. Besides, hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, son." He repeated the words he'd told Luke so long ago, and still whole-heartedly believed.

"Really?" Ben said, eager, and Han began instruction.

Ben sucked up any information like a little sponge. He was a happy kid overall, albeit he had horrible nightmares. Han refused anything Leia and Luke said about the dark side, though; Han knew his son, and he knew Ben was _good_. Sure, he was an emotional kid. He cried easily and occasionally pitched a hissy fit that led to a toy or two levitating. That didn't mean he was gonna go out and commit genocide, though. It meant he was a normal, force-sensitive child and he had feelings. That was normal, in his opinion. Han himself had been a right little shit as a child, much more so than Ben, before everything changed and he became an orphan, stranded on the streets. No child should be subjected to emotional strangulation and rigorous rules and regulations so young, and Han could not be swayed. 

When Ben was seven, Han started taking him out longer as trouble began brewing in the galaxy, stressing Leia out even more as the Senate grew rambunctious. The First Order, they called themselves; remnants of a broken Empire trying to make a comeback. Han didn't mind taking over a bit more responsibility; it was clear that while Ben adored his mother and wanted to be just like her, he was growing to idolize his father, as well. Oftentimes Han would even sit him in the pilots' seat, crouching down beside him and teaching him the ropes of flying.

Even still, Luke claimed there was growing darkness in Ben's Force signature. As the years rolled by and Ben was heading straight for the pre-teens, outbursts of the Force became more common along with fits that left Leia so stressed Han was finding clumps of her hair in the refresher. He tried to tell her it was hormones, not some cosmic sign their son was going to murder babies and kick loth kittens for the rest of his life. She began insisting on training, though. Luke had opened an academy, she said one night. It would be good for him. He had no control and he scared his peers, she said. Han thought he got along pretty kriffing well with that Dameron kid, but what did he know? He was only Ben's father.

One particularly rough night, Ben had overheard them talking about the Jedi Academy. Nine years old and in tears, screaming and begging not to be sent away. He'd raced to his room sobbing, the plates in the sink from dinner shattering from his distress. Leia had broken down crying, asking him if she was a horrible mother for wanting to push her son off on her brother. He had hugged her, reassured her, left their son to stew for the night. He regretted it the next day when Ben refused to speak to either of them, and Han was at a loss.

He approached the boy in his room and watched him silently for a few seconds from the doorway. He was playing with a model X-wing, painstakingly painting the wings a brilliant orange color. Han stepped in the room and Ben's head snapped up before he set the plane down and stared at his lap.

"You okay, kid?" Han asked, crouching by his chair so they were eye level.

The young boy was silent for a few moments before speaking up, "I don't want to go away."

"Good. I don't want you to, either." Han said simply, looking at his son's face twitch slightly as his lip began to wobble.

It looks like he wasn't escaping this conversation without some waterworks.

"I just, I know it's Uncle Luke. Still, I don't want to go to the academy. I don't want to be a Jedi." Ben looked at him with brown, glassy eyes, "I don't want to leave home. Promise me you won't make me?"

Han smiled, sticking out his pinkie, "Promise, kid."

His son accepted it, looping his own finger with his father's in what was considered the ultimate oath.

~

Han couldn't keep his promise. It killed him, it really did, but after Ben had exploded a vase in frustration with school work, Han began to realize the merits of him controlling his power. It took a lot to make him see the sense in what Leia and Luke suggested. But, as Ben began to get less sleep due to nightmares and have larger outbursts, Han was truly worried for their son. So he finally agreed when Ben turned eleven that they would hand him over to Luke for training. Leia insisted they not tell him until his birthday, to let him enjoy his last few months at home.

Leia had been the one to break the news the morning of his eleventh year. He was going to the Jedi Academy at the beginning of next week. Ben had sat, a devastated look on his face, but it wasn't the anger they'd expected. Instead, he turned to his father and asked a question that would haunt the man decades into the future. 

"What did I do?" His son's eyes welled with tears as he turned his burning gaze to Leia, "How'd I make you not want me anymore?"

Leia made a sound like she'd been physically wounded but didn't have time to say a word. Ben stood, fled to his room, and locked himself inside it the entire day and next day. When the morning of Luke's arrival came, he was packed and ready. He gave his mother and father stiff hugs, tears still streaming down his face, and shrugged off the hand Luke put on his shoulder.

"Kid, you can comm us anytime. You know that." Han said, kissing the top of his son's head one more time.

"Why would you want to talk to me?" Ben had asked dully, "I'm a disappointment, right? That's why you're getting rid of me?"

Luke had sent the boy a stricken look and at to Han's right Leia trembled but still managed to shake her head.

"No, sweetheart, we love you very much." She gave him another hug, but he didn't reciprocate.

"We do love you, son." Han forced a smile, "I know it seems like a long time, kiddo, but time will fly once you get there."

If he'd known this would be the last time he'd see his son in over a decade, he would've done things differently. He would've taken a harder last look, would've hugged him longer, would've stopped him from going at all if he was honest. He didn't know, though. So Ben followed Luke to a ship and flew off without a glance back at his parents, and Han just watched them go.


	2. II

**CHAPTER II - THE FALL**

It wasn't that no one liked Ben; on the contrary, many people wanted to be his friend. He was the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, after all, and the nephew of Luke Skywalker, the only living Jedi Master. Not to mention he was for all intents and purposes the Prince of New Alderaan. He had a lineage of power behind him, and his fellow padawans seemed to respect that. They would smile at him in the hallways, chat with him at dinner, gossip with him at practice. None of it ever went beyond that, though. When his back was turned, he could feel the curious and fearful stares on him.

His Force signature, he knew instinctively, was the culprit. It always was. He felt too dark to other Force-sensitives, and it made them wary or fearful even if it was only on a subconscious level. He could bitterly recall all the hushed conversations his mother, father, and uncle had sat around their dining room table, thinking he couldn't hear them from in his room. He wondered idly what a person had to do in a past life to be damned before they were even born.

Still, he threw himself into his studies. He didn't want to be a Jedi, no, but it was apparently the only thing he could do to make his family proud. He wanted to be home, in his own bed, but instead, he had a barren, small thing his uncle dared to call his personal quarters. The same as everyone else, he said. The cold seemed to seep in his bones at night, and no blankets would help. His nightmares grew horrifying, dreams of blood and slaughter that woke Ben up with panic attacks that left him heaving and gasping for air. He just wanted to go home.

After a week his mother commed him, her hologram image smiling and telling him how proud she was of him. He felt as if his heart had been wrenched from his chest, left in shatters on the ground. He smiled and forced back the pleas to come and get him. He forced back any fears he had, any unease about the voices in his head that only grew worse, all the sobs building in his chest that struggled up his throat to escape.

When she hung up, he ended up puking in the refresher and then crying until sunset, a sick and unsettling feeling creeping into his body and mind.

He didn't get any calls on his holopad after that. He ignored the concerned looks from his uncle as he threw himself into books, trying to escape the harsh reality that his parents might not care anymore, that they gave up on him for real this time. 

~

As the years went on, he got the reputation of being quite a bookworm. He preferred books and old holograms to his peers, it was true. The awkwardness that hung around them when they tried to speak to him drove Ben away, though he knew it was his fault in the first place. Any Force-Sensitive could sense his signature, sense his _darkness_. So, instead of putting himself through that, he was always on his holopad, either ignoring calls from his parents or reading books that caught his interest.

From politics to legends, he'd read many by age fifteen. Sometimes he went to the library for hours, engrosses in the old, delicate books recounting famous Jedi and the various techniques and styles one could utilize with a lightsaber.

He read about his own name-sake, too, of course. Obi-Wan Kenobi or, as Luke had called him in his stories, Ben Kenobi, was basically a legend to Ben. The Negotiator, famous for his persuasive words and Jedi tricks, one half of a famous duo in the Clone Wars. He enjoyed the stories about him, the facts and trivia, anything that had _nothing_ to do with his padawan turned Sith Lord.

The first time Ben had clicked a link on his holopad only to see an image of a young Anakin Skywalker staring back at him, the voice in his head had hissed with delight.

 _Vader_ , it had said, _Darth Vader. You will surpass him, become even greater, even more horrible than he had ever dreamed_ _._

Ben had closed the page with haste, heart beating in his throat. He slammed down some semblance of shields, an advanced technique and not something a padawan his age should know how to do. He had read about them, though, and after that first time he tried them...there was silence. Kriffing silence, for once in his life. Since he could remember there was always a voice in the back of his mind, and for a time he thought it was his own twisted desires. It wasn't.

By morning the voice was back, growling in outrage, but Ben didn't care. He wasn't a monster, no matter what anyone thought. He wasn't dark, or evil, or destined to become either of those things. He wasn't what they said he was, and self-fulfilling prophecies were absolute bullshit best left in those awful romance and drama novels.

After that, even though he was sure his signature was tainted further by the presence, he was happier. His uncle gave him suspicious looks, his fellow padawans seemed as wary as ever, and _Ben didn't karking care_. Every morning he woke up and could finally stand to look at himself in the mirror. It was...different, but overall pleasant.

He'd never had a positive view of himself, it was true. He had always believed the opinions others had of him. It was different to wake up and feel like he wasn't a cosmic mistake, and he owed it all to some ancient, dusty, long-dead Jedi who wrote a random book about mental shielding. 

He started to shield himself more often, especially when he was alone in his room. It made the voice angry, and when it came back it was always sure to give him a headache. Ben figured it was worth the few hours of peace he would get in exchange. He could mention it all to his uncle, but he wondered where that would get him. Would it solve the issue of being treated like a ticking bomb, or only make it worse? Would he get to go home, or would Luke insist he stay even longer?

Everything could go very right or very, very wrong. In Ben's personal experience, the latter was usually what ended up happening. So he strangled his desire for familial comfort and handled the voice the way he did most things; brute force and sheer stubbornness that could only belong to the son of Han Solo. He shielded when he could and, when he became too tired to keep it up, shouldered through the nightmares and horrific thoughts that were as disturbing as they were intrusive.

It seemed to be getting desperate at this point, though for what Ben had no clue. He just wished the bantha shit would piss off already.

~

His seventeenth year came and went uneventfully, filled with the strict drills and lessons of someone so close to escaping the Jedi Academy's clutches. His Uncle seemed harsher than ever; not in an obvious way, not in that he was cruel, but he judged Ben more than the other padawans. They noticed too, his peers. Everyone did. Luke treated him like the odd one out, even if it was done unconsciously, and the rest followed suit. He paid them no mind, eager to get out of the barren stone halls of the temple and make a break for the real world.

He wasn't sure what he wanted now; it wasn't to go home. He wouldn't say going years without seeing his parents physically or holographically had resulted in resentment but, honestly, it had. Luke had set up a call with them every birthday he had but, outside of that, he had heard nothing but silence. His mother and father both knew he was still angry with them, he suspected. Eventually, Leia was the only one who answered the calls on his birthday at all.

They didn't even really understand why he was upset, though. They assumed it was because they'd sent him away. Initially, it was true; he'd been torn away from his parents, his home. He had nothing at the temple but suspicion and acquaintances. Poe wasn't there, his parents weren't there, and neither was Uncle Chewie. All he had was Luke, who was standoffish at best sometimes. It was rough, at the beginning. Then he'd stopped hearing from them except once a year, and then his father quit trying completely.

Once, he'd asked Luke if they could visit. His uncle said he'd extend the invitation. They never came. His mother was too busy, which was understandable. She was the kriffing Queen of New Alderaan and had to regularly campaign for her seat as Senator. Ben accepted it as graciously as he could.

His father, though, claimed he had too many runs to make. Ben knew it was bullshit. He'd been on those runs with his dad before; they were irregular at best. There was no way he didn't have time to drop in for a day. By the time he turned eighteen, it'd been four years since he'd seen or spoken to his father; it hurt him to think the dad who had taught him how to fly and given him piggyback rides around the garden had just given up on him. 

They had moved around a lot during his childhood, but he had been born on Chandrila. Then they had moved to Hosnian Prime, then New Alderaan all the way out on the Outer Rim, then back to Hosnian Prime. The one constant he'd had was always his father; while his mom was busy all day, Han had played stay at home dad until Ben was old enough to go on runs with him. He'd spent so much time with his father until, suddenly, he wasn't there at all. Not even through a holocomm. 

As his nineteenth year grew closer and closer, the day he would finally leave just beginning to crest in his imagination, his uncle grew even stranger. Stranger than all the normal psychoanalyzing bantha shit he normally did, even. He began to ask questions about Ben's shielding and his nightmares, about his insecurities and doubts about being a full-fledged Jedi Knight anytime soon.

At first, Ben had wanted to spill his guts. That is until he realized why Luke had suddenly gone from strict and wary Master to doting uncle. He figured it out when he saw Hennix and Voe, two of his uncle's current Jedi Knights, following him around. It wasn't obvious at first until he began to notice them lurking around corners and hallways they wouldn't normally be in, and the realization sunk into his stomach like a stone.

His uncle feared he was falling to the Dark Side. Or he had _already_ fallen, maybe. Ben had no idea, but the thought that his uncle had known about his suffering for all those years and let it happen turned him off from telling the man anything.

Ben might not have been forthcoming, but he hadn't known at first that the voice was actually another being he could block out. Luke _would have known_. Maybe he did know, maybe he liked watching his nephew suffer, Ben had no clue. He thought it would all blow over, everything would return to normal and Luke would go back to his usual levels of paranoia once Ben was gone.

Then Ben woke up to a bright green lightsaber in his face. He had stared, shell-shocked and hurt so deeply he couldn't think. His uncle had extinguished the blade, dropping to his knees and placing the lightsaber on the ground as he shook his head.

"It's not-" He had begun, but Ben was already standing.

 _Kill him_. The voice hissed in his ear _._ _He wants you dead, you fool. Do what you must! Kill him, kill your past, and rise reborn!_

 _Get out_ , he thought back heatedly, _get the kark out!_

Tears flowed hot down his cheeks and, in a fit of rage, he grabbed ahold of his own signature withing the living Force and ripped it right out. His fury aided him as a sudden gaping hole was left where he had once been, bloody and raw as if it was a wound that would never recover.

Ben was not weak by any means; he was the strongest padawan at the Academy, and stronger than many of the knights, even. His absence was a tear, a rift, and he knew instantly the Force was displeased. Luke had gasped as he felt the disturbance, looking at Ben with wide eyes, but the boy only gripped his lightsaber tightly and shook his head.

He fled his room, his uncle following him hot on his heels, and made a straight line for the ships. He heard his uncle begging him to stop, but he jumped straight in Luke's own vessel, put in the access code he knew by heart, and took off. He entered hyperspeed before Luke could even think of following him and ripped the tracking component out from under the communication center. He crushed it under his heel, leaving sparking remains behind. He sat once the ship was on autopilot to some Mid-Rim planet and only then sunk down to the floor in the tiny cockpit of the small ship. He put his head in his hands and, for the first time since he was fifteen, cried.

His holopad, which had remained in his pocket while he slept, lit up and made a buzzing noise for the first time in years. He didn't check who it was, just tore it from his person and shoved it a good foot away from him. 

What did someone do, when everyone they loved had turned their backs on them? When they had pushed everyone in their life away? When they had no home to return to? Ben didn't know, but he was about to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo...what do you think Ben will do? It's pretty obvious, he starts smuggling, but how do you think he gets there?
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the chapter! If you're guessing Han was running away from his guilt and issues as a father, you guessed right! He'll come to regret it, though, don't worry. He won't, like, die though. No patricide in my fic lmao.


End file.
